Weep the matt night when no star stares, it is a fanfare for a new blossom day...there goes some flashbacks about the ignorance and the negligence, and they match a light that never fades. A spot, what is it for? A soap melts under the flowing foam of extravaganza, and there is growing iridescence. A ballad to brush the decayed ground, it is orchestrated with myriad tunes of the past. A day comes still, while the call for morning drills. It is a symbol of an emulsification, a turn of focus and a move to deem. I have every morning glory revelled in the groom of will.
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